


Party Central

by itstonedme



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-10
Updated: 2009-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:30:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itstonedme/pseuds/itstonedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang drops in.  Written for Orlijah_Month 2009 and originally posted on LJ <a href="http://itstonedme.livejournal.com/14378.html">here</a> with reader comments.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: A work of fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Party Central

They’ve been partying since Friday night, end of term, and it’s early hours of Sunday now, and Elijah’s past thinking about when he last slept because he knows it wasn’t Friday night – they hadn’t even been home then, had been across the river at a club until it closed at 4 a.m., then straight to breakfast downtown. Maybe it was late Saturday morning, maybe. Or was that when his brother had rolled into town, and everyone who was still hanging around the apartment had started back up again ‘cause Zach was back? 

Anyway, somewhere in there, the liquor and drugs had gotten a face lift and the coke had been brought out and then run out, and he didn’t sleep then, just sort of coasted all jittery like, and he thinks that was probably when he’d taken a bath in the jet tub with a couple of people, just to clean the edge off. Christ, had he been in the tub with Eric’s _sister_ and her roommate? Maybe, who knew? But he hadn’t slept there, that’s for sure, and then he’d gotten changed and when he’d come back into the living room, there were a whole bunch of people he didn’t know, so he’d fucked off back to his room where there was this guy sitting up against the wall on his bed, no one else. All-in-denim guy, dark hair, lining up a few rails high up on his thigh, right there on the denim, razor tidying everything nice and neat.

And the guy’d finally looked up at him, quiet-like, and said, “Heh, go for it,” and he’d dropped to his knees on the hardwood right between the span of this guy’s thighs – didn’t even fucking introduce himself, didn’t even say, “Name’s Elijah. You?” Just took the bill the guy was holding and hunkered down, nose next to his fucking cock ‘cause he’d dressed that side, you know, who cared anyway, he’d had excellent dope. 

And finally, finally, Elijah has laid his head down on the guy’s other thigh and watches while the guy licks his finger to pick up the bits Elijah’s missed, and he sucks off his own finger and pets Elijah’s hair, which is nice, feels really nice. Not a word. Elijah figures if he doesn’t move, he’ll nod off right on Denim Guy’s leg. Maybe he should crawl up on the bed. Maybe.

In a minute.


End file.
